


i lost my peace; i don't think i'll ever find it

by coffeemuke



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Damen Is Clueless, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mostly hurt though, Murder, Oral Sex, Political Alliances, Prince Damianos & Slave Laurent (Captive Prince), Revenge, Secret Identity, dark themes, slave laurent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeemuke/pseuds/coffeemuke
Summary: Laurent knows his time is running out. He's too old now to make use of the affections of his uncle, who now sees him as a threat to the throne, and needs to get rid of him. Kastor, now the King of Akielos, visits, and comes to an agreement with the Regent that Laurent will be sent as a slave to Prince Damianos. Laurent decides to comply with this turn of events, and use his position as a slave to a man he hates in order to gain information, and gradually work his way to killing the Regent, but his captor turns out to be nothing like he expects.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "20" by Landon Cube.
> 
> Written for this prompt from the Captive Prince Kinkmeme prompt  
> https://captive-prince-kink-meme.dreamwidth.org/783.html?thread=75791

Laurent is fully aware that his usefulness is waning. After Auguste’s death, he was favored, because he was always by the Regent’s side. The servants treated him with higher authority now that he was to become king. He placed more trust in his uncle than he should have, even knowing his predilections. Most in the palace knew, or at least suspected, what happened between them. It was an unspoken thing, that the Regent had a preference for young male pets— and even those in his own family were not safe.

He knows that his uncle’s indifference, his refusal to touch him, means he’s too old. After his sixteenth birthday, his uncle no longer asked him to kneel for him, though he still is called into his chambers occasionally. Laurent thinks it’s because his face is becoming that of a young man, and at least when he fucks him, he doesn’t have to see the sharpening of his jaw, or the stubble that begins to grace his smooth cheeks. He sees it in the mirror, how he’s starting to look like his brother. Laurent is too old for this game, and he will be replaced soon.

He notices a new presence in the palace. The boy is lovely, his brunette curls framing his delicate features, blue eyes lined and long lashes enhanced with makeup. He’s no more than twelve years old, and he follows the Regent everywhere. Laurent hasn’t been summoned at night for two weeks now, and he knows he should feel relief, but a pang of jealousy sears its way across his heart. He's been used and tossed aside. Now this boy, this whore, laps up the attention of the older man, fluttering his beautiful eyes in a way that makes Laurent’s stomach turn.

It’s a blessing to be alone. It’s also a warning. The Regent has already found a new plaything, so how long will it take for him to discard Laurent? He has no use now, and is merely a threat to the Regent’s power grab. If Vere is rid of a legitimate heir, he becomes king. The days pass slowly, and Laurent can do nothing but wait for information to pass to him. He listens in on conversations, but none of the political maneuvers his uncle uses are of any importance except ones that concern his own fate.

He learns of the plan soon enough. Kastor, the newly-appointed king from Ios, whose father recently died under mysterious circumstances, visits with an entourage of slaves, and Laurent is reminded of what his life could have been. At least royal birth ensured he was not sold off and degraded by Akielon royalty, with their barbaric practices of slavery. Although it was not as if his own Veretian standards were much better for slaves, admittedly. Laurent averts his eyes from the pets in public as they service their masters, flushed cheeks and lewd noises giving them away. He is disgusted by the court and their vile habits, though he knows he's no better, arching his back and making those same sounds for the Regent in bed. It was easier to give in to this than to be killed at thirteen, so he did what he could to satisfy the man who was supposed to be his protector.

Kastor is handsome, and the servants in the palace are eager to please the ruler of another country, perfectly meek and polite while he stays in the castle. However, for all their enchantment, rumors between servants swirl about that he is an illegitimate heir. Darker ones, too, like the possibility that he killed King Theomedes in order to gain control of the throne. Laurent doesn’t believe many of the things he hears from the court, but this one may have some weight to it, he judges, when he sees the eyes of the alleged patricidal king. He’s seen enough men who have killed to know that their eyes have a certain darkness that cannot be replicated by an innocent soul. He sees it in his uncle’s eyes, and it haunts him. He fears for his own future, and has considered many a time slipping into his room with the intent to seduce, and pulling a dagger from his cloak as he undresses, stabbing him and seeing the life fade out of his body. However skilled he is at fighting, he can not take the guards all at once, so it’s no more than a fantasy he indulges in, often in dreams.

Laurent stands by a white gilded-edge door, listening intently. He has learned by now to gather information, creeping quietly around the castle to inform himself of possible threats. The Regent must believe him to be less intelligent than in reality, as he never assigns security outside these meetings. All the servants and guards in the palace are trustworthy, and Laurent knows this, but it seems that the Regent fails to consider his own nephew an enemy, even as he plots for his demise.

He hears a smooth voice speaking in Akielon that he identifies as Kastor, saying, “send him to Ios as a pleasure slave for my brother. This will accomplish both of our goals.” There is no other meaning for his words that would make sense, would make this easier to digest. Laurent feels like he’s been punched in the chest, hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs. He feels idiotic that he didn’t see this coming. The Regent had never been one to agree easily with others except when it benefitted him, so this sudden peace with Akielos was unexpected. However, it made sense. He knew that Laurent hated Prince Damianos, and desired undoubtedly to kill him. Laurent was also a threat to the throne, and sending him away as a slave, then faking his death, would mean that he was no longer an obstacle to his uncle’s rise to kingship. Even if he killed Damianos when he arrived, and his identity as the prince was exposed, he would surely be executed in Ios by Kastor himself. The thought makes Laurent’s body shake with fear as he drowns out the other voice coming through the shut door.

Moments later, the Regent’s new toy walks out of the room with a proud smile on his face, a look that says “I’ve replaced you,” feigning superiority. Laurent fields off his disgust and straightens his shoulders, giving him an impartial glance. Nicaise. He vaguely remembers the name coming from the Regent’s mouth whenever he needs a minor task completed. He doesn’t bother interacting much with the boy, as there is no need. He seems to enjoy his position, if the lascivious things he says are any indication, or the smirk in his shimmering eyes as he raises his nose above the servants.

Thankfully, Nicaise doesn’t question why Laurent is standing outside the door of an important meeting. Hopefully he thinks Laurent is still desperate to gain the attention of his uncle, as he was before Nicaise took his place. By this point, it was only to ensure his safety, but no one knew the difference. And who wouldn’t be enthralled with the affections of such a man? Surely that is why Nicaise tolerates the Regent, even though his thin pre-pubescent figure looks far too young to be that of a typical pleasure slave. The Regent is powerful, so close to becoming king that it is almost inescapable, unless Laurent lives to be 21. And his uncle seems damn determined to make sure he becomes the rightful ruler, instead of just a regent taking his nephew’s place, if the anonymous threats Laurent received were any indication.

As soon as the boy is gone, Laurent races to his room, and locks the door. He sits on his bed, perfectly made (as the Regent expected of him, years ago), and stares at the wall. There’s simply no escape. He could attempt to leave tonight, but the reason he can’t is the same he hasn’t already. The Regent would hunt him down, and he shudders to think of being found by his most powerful men, hiding alone somewhere with only his wits and a sword. No matter how remote the area, he is sure the Regent would find him, and the punishment for leaving would be worse than if he stayed. So he decides to use this situation to his advantage, as best as he can. He will seduce Damianos, his brother’s murderer, playing the part of the perfect subservient slave, and use this information to exact revenge— first on the Regent, then on Damianos.

After he comes up with the idea, he cries. He hasn’t cried in years, thought that the salt of tears didn’t reside in his body anymore, but now they flow freely. He’s reminded once again that Auguste is gone, has been dead for three years now, and there is no one to protect him. He will be forced to sleep with the man he hates, and must be docile and patient in order to gain some sense of control. For all that he's given over the last three years, he still must tolerate more, in silent compliance. The sobs rack his body harder when he realizes there’s no guarantee that his plan will work, and that he won’t die months from now, alone in Ios and unable to prevail.

The next morning, he is called from his studies by a servant, and appears in the same room where the Regent and Kastor discussed his fate in the afternoon before. He puts on a stoic mask, hiding the fury in his eyes that threatens to seep out of his skin when he pushes it down.

The Regent stands before him, decorated in all the attire a king might wear. His robes are luxurious, and he spares no expense, using the treasury to provide himself with small pleasures such as these. Laurent has the fleeting thought that it’s like dressing up a mangy dog. No matter how poised and elegant he may be, Laurent must always bite back the disgust that rises in his throat, endangering the calmness of his voice, when he sees the man.

He stands before his uncle's desk, almost reaching his height, and looks him in the eyes.

“My dear nephew,” the Regent starts consolingly, though Laurent has never felt comfort from a word he's said, “I believe it is time that you learn some experience in matters of the world. King Kastor, ruler of Ios, and I have arranged for you to visit his kingdom for the next few years to study the Akielon customs. He is now an ally of Vere, so please do not disappoint me.” His voice takes on a harsh quality as he ends with this phrase that would be innocuous coming from anyone else, but is clearly a threat. If Laurent chooses to disobey, he will be killed another way. This at least allowed him a chance of survival.

Laurent nods his head, then presses a knee to the floor, bowing, letting his golden locks fall in his face and praising that they block his face from showing an unmistakable rage. His expression becomes neutral as he raises his head, and the Regent dismisses him with a wave of his ring-laden hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent is sent off to Ios and meets Prince Damianos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very appreciated :)

Packing his belongings is a mere pretense, as Laurent knows he won’t be allowed to keep anything truly valuable. Slaves are not allowed possessions of their own, unless it is a gift from their master. The boys that are trained as slaves usually are not princes, though.

He entrusts Auguste’s pendant, the only material object he really treasures, to Paschal. He cannot tell him why, but pleads with him to keep it safe, even if he does not return, and to never let it fall into the hands of the Regent. Paschal’s eyes soften as realization dawns on him that Laurent is not just going to Ios to study. He looks sufficiently concerned at this request, but says nothing, accepting with a nod. Laurent learned to trust him years ago because of this quality. He was quiet, allowed in many places due to his position, but unnoticed by most. That, and he always healed Laurent’s injuries from the abuse with few questions. He knew what the Regent did, it was obvious enough after Laurent stumbled in to see him that first time, still under the effects of the drug, but he did not have the power to change it— so the next best thing was to apply his healing salves, and comfort Laurent in a way that few people could. For that, he has gained the trust of a man who hopes to be king.

While packing, Laurent sews money and jewels in the lining of the pockets in all of his clothing. Even though he will be a slave, money still holds power, and he can use it to his advantage. He may be able to convince the other servants to be indebted to him, and this could prove a chance for him to coerce them into loyalty, or a method of escape.

Even in the palatial room he thought was much too lavish as a child, he does not have many possessions that mean anything. Auguste was the last person in his life he really cared for, and he died three years earlier. Anything he has acquired since then was either a gift from the Regent, or the result of being a prince.

He brings books, of course, and journals, following along with the ploy of advancing his education. Perhaps his uncle thinks Laurent is dense enough to believe the lie.

They depart from Arles the next morning while the sun still sleeps. The Regent and a small tour of his men accompany Laurent on the ride to Marches, where he will leave by sea, sailing along the coast of Akielos to reach its capital of Ios, located on its peninsula.

It’s nearly midday when they reach the region of Marches, and they ride an hour more to its coast where a ship awaits his arrival. Only two of the Regent’s men accompany him onto the ship; the rest are hired sailors from the region.

He waves to the Regent as he boards the ship, playing the part he’s supposed to, of the student being sent off to study in a new place, not a future slave to the prince of Akielos. He wonders momentarily if he will be kidnapped, in an elaborate plot to absolve the Regent of any wrongdoing, making him seem innocent. Then he realizes how small the ship is, and the fact that it is unmarked with the Regent’s symbol means it will travel through foreign waters unnoticed. His uncle does not expect him to live long enough to come back, or else he would make more of an effort to pretend that this is not a betrayal. He _knows_ that Laurent is aware that he’s being sent away for an ulterior motive. What’s the point in staging a kidnapping if Laurent doesn’t live long enough to react? Why not just openly betray him? Once Laurent is past the coast of Vere, he will find out that he is being taken to Ios not as a prince, but as a slave. After thinking through this set of ideas with rage boiling in his chest, he disappears below deck, retiring to his bunk for a small amount of privacy.

Before his eyes close, he has the thought that he _will_ live long enough to get revenge, on both Damianos and the Regent. The shoreline of Marches disappears, and despite his declaration of living, his hope of returning to his homeland fades with it.

They reach Ios after two weeks. The men Laurent travels with leave him alone, and mostly avoid speaking to him. He trusts no one, and keeps to himself, reading the few books that he brought to keep entertained. The sailors from Marches talk about him, about how his slender body would look underneath them, how they fantasize about making his cold gaze turn into one of lust, and he knows that the only reason they haven’t tried to touch him yet is because he’s supposed to be a gift for the Prince of Ios. They don’t know, of course, that he is well-versed in their language, and can understand the crude things they speak of.

He feels the gentle lull of the boat stop as they reach the shore, and hears one of the men call for him from above. “Slave” is his new title; he is no longer Laurent of Vere. He assumes his new name will be chosen by his owner, as no one has addressed him by one during his time on the ship. Evening approaches, and the sailors go to gather supplies for their journey back, leaving him alone with the Regent’s men.

It’s night when they disembark. He sees almost nothing of the city, as he is taken immediately into a waiting carriage with the shades drawn. He complies, because it would be foolish not to, at this point. Slaves who disobey are often restrained, and their freedoms restricted. If he manages to gain some trust, his goal will be easier. One of the Regent’s personal guards, Pavel, sits opposite him in the carriage with a stony gaze.

Not thirty minutes later, when they arrive at their destination, Laurent is led directly to the prince’s private chambers. The servants depart, including Pavel, and he is now utterly, completely alone in this unfamiliar place.

Damianos’ sitting room is opulent, as to be expected, with red sofas and gold accented furniture. Laurent takes a seat on the plush cushion and waits. Momentarily, a servant walks in. He is young, perhaps twenty years of age, and handsome, but the life in his eyes seems dimmed. He takes in Laurent’s appearance, and his eyes brighten considerably. “You will _definitely_ be to the prince’s liking,” he says, and Laurent feels smaller than before. He knows he’s pretty, with straight golden hair that brushes his shoulders, sharply defined features, and icy eyes that captivate men and women, but he’d like for once to be taken seriously rather than seen as attractive. The lustful gazes of those who tried to pursue him did nothing but made disgust rise in his throat.

“Alcides.” The man meets his eyes, and addresses Laurent in Akielon with this unfamiliar name, letting it drag off his tongue hesitantly. “This is the name our prince wishes to call you by.”

Laurent nods in understanding, and the young man continues. “I am Mitros, one of Prince Damianos’ personal servants. I am to accompany you to the baths now.”

He stands up, and follows the servant wordlessly out of the room.

The private bath is startlingly similar to his own in the palace at Arles. Carved marble with a large sunken pool of water, steam rising to the ceiling, fragrant oils— the comparison provides him with some level of comfort, even if on a superficial level. Mitros stands nearby, keeping his eyes to the floor as Laurent undresses, flickering glances up every so often. He allows Laurent to step into the water, putting a small distance between them, and watches the blonde as he sinks down on a marble ledge, back facing him.

Laurent dips under the water, wetting his hair and face, and takes a deep breath when he comes up. He reaches for the soap on the closest pedestal, and begins to lather it across his body. It feels glorious now to bathe after two weeks traveling by boat, and he is immersed for a moment in the calm of it, with no thoughts of the condition that brought him here. After he feels thoroughly cleansed of his journey at sea, he sits in the warm water, leaning his head back against the marble ledge, and closes his eyes for a moment. A hand on his shoulder startles him out of the temporary relaxation.

“I’ll need to prepare you now. It’s your first night.” Mitros’s tone is inoffensive enough that it takes Laurent a moment to understand what he means. He wants to laugh at the phrase “first night,” but thinks it would be in bad taste. Of course they would expect that a slave for the prince be pure. He hasn’t been a virgin for years, but maybe his experience will prove to be a positive, and he can impress the prince with his skill. He’s gotten used to preparing himself like this, as the Regent was never particularly gentle, and he certainly doesn’t need a servant's assistance in such a matter. Especially in anticipation of what he must do tonight.

He shoves the hand off his shoulder, and tries to reign in his venom as he spits out, “I’ll do it myself.”

The servant seems taken aback by his harshness. Perhaps the slaves here usually offered to spread their legs for a mere servant, not aspiring to do anything more in life than be a royal plaything, Laurent thinks.

He glares at the man, who doesn’t move. “May I have some privacy?”

The young man opens his mouth, hesitating for a moment. “You must understand you are a gift for the prince. I was given exact orders to watch you at all times.”

Laurent sighs, and stands to face Mitros, water dripping off his slender body as the servant meets his eyes. He waits expectantly for a moment, and then he is handed a bottle of oil. He walks to a higher ledge of the baths, where the water falls just below his hips, and sits back against the wall, letting his legs fall open in front of him. He steals a glance over to Mitros, whose dark skin doesn’t hide the blush that comes across his cheeks, and focuses his sight on the tile beneath his feet.

Laurent pours the unscented oil onto his finger, and places one arm behind himself for stability as the other trails over his skin, before slipping easily into his entrance. He works quickly, not for pleasure, and adds a second finger after some moments of adjusting. He’s beginning to harden now, and ignores it, although he’s sure Mitros is interested in the scene before him. Now steadily plunging two fingers in, he adds a third, pulling them apart to stretch himself, hoping the prince isn’t too large. Not that it matters. He has to do this anyway, and besides, most physical pain is just a sensation that fades after some time. A fourth, just in case, he decides, as he adds more oil to coat his slim digits. He does not touch himself, refusing to do so while he prepares himself for the man he hates most to take him tonight.

Mitros is obviously aroused, as the simple chiton does nothing to hide his erection. Laurent pulls his fingers out, satisfied with his preparation, and washes the oil from his hand before stepping out of the bath. As if out of a trance, Mitros snaps into action, bringing him a large cloth, and patting his body dry. He is methodical, and for this, Laurent is thankful. The interest in his body does not cloud his ability as a servant.

He is led out of the bath, and into a small chamber with clothing laid on chairs matching the ones from the sitting room. The servant studies his face for a moment, and chooses a white chiton with simple gold clasps at both shoulders. He assists Laurent in dressing, and fastens a thin golden necklace around his delicate neck. “Damianos prefers subtle ornamentation,” he explains, continuing quickly, “He is not one to have a personal pet. This is… unusual for him.”

Laurent gives no response.

Mitros instructs him on how to address the prince before exiting the room, and then he waits, perched by the bed on a floor cushion. Damianos arrives shortly, a towering mass of muscle, adorned in Akielon dress. He looks like a soldier, Laurent thinks, a force of brute strength, and that idea strikes fear in him that he attempts to hide.

Laurent remembers to bow, holding his head down until the prince speaks. “Alcides.”

There’s that ridiculous name again. A heroic name, and an unwelcome reminder of how weak Laurent feels right now when his new name means “strong.”

He raises his head in acknowledgement, eyes flickering up to Damianos’ and seeing that despite his appearance, his eyes have a warmth about them that was not present in Kastor’s.

He approaches Laurent, towering over his kneeling form. “Undress me,” he asks. His tone is even, and his accent barely registers in Laurent’s mind.

The order hangs in the air, and Laurent knows it is a command, not a question. He starts with the shoes, deftly untying the laces and slipping them off his feet. Damianos assists him in shrugging off a thin shawl, and then he unwraps the chiton that is smartly twisted together. It falls to the floor around his feet.

Damianos stands bare before him, and moves to sit on the bed. “Use your mouth,” he says plainly.

Laurent presses back against the memories, focuses on this moment instead of years ago, and grasps Damianos with his hand. He’s huge, Laurent notices, with some apprehension, but takes him into his mouth as fully as he can. He knows he’s good at this from years of practice, and brings Damianos to the edge quickly. The tanned hands grip into the edge of the bed, his thighs tremble, and toes curl. Laurent shoves him deeper into his throat, and Damianos spills into him with a groan. He wipes a strand of Laurent’s hair out of his face after watching him swallow, but says nothing.

That night, Damianos does not ask for more, but climbs into the bed still nude, and calls for Mitros to escort Laurent to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I introduced a few OCs here. Pavel, the Regent's guard, and Mitros, Damianos' servant. Mitros will be in more chapters, and Pavel likely will be later.
> 
> Laurent's new name, Alcides, is a Greek name that means "strength" and is another name for Hercules.
> 
> The sex scenes (for now) aren't going to be too "sexy" because I don't want to romanticize them. Laurent isn't in a place where he feels like he can really consent. However, there will be at least one scene later on where he and Damianos have sex and it will be very much consensual.
> 
> Let me know if you like this story! I live for validation in the comments lol.
> 
> I saw this prompt and HAD to write it, even though it's a much longer project than I usually take on. I'm a single mom with a baby, so my writing time is limited and I may not be updating on a regular schedule, but I'm super excited about this prompt and its potential. I currently have 9 chapters outlined for the full story arc. There will be a lot of angst and Laurent healing from past/recent abuse, but the end will be happy-ish, likely with the main characters ending up together (even though this wouldn't be healthy irl).


	3. Chapter 3

Laurent is left alone most of the time. Damianos is not like the flashy courtiers in Vere who dress their pets in jewels and bring them everywhere to show off their beauty and submissive nature. He has political matters to attend, and for that, Laurent is thankful. He only sees Laurent at night, and then sends him away to his own room to sleep.

The second night, Laurent had been called into the prince’s room and he knew what would happen, dreaded it, but didn’t have the option to refuse. He was a pleasure slave, and he had to act like the others who were trained to enjoy this, to swallow their pride and find pleasure in submitting to someone. So Laurent, with his sharp wit and equally honed tongue, was silent.

He kneeled to undress Damianos, then laid himself bare on the bed. The hand that spread over his back made him flinch, and so did the feeling of another hand at the curve of his ass before he pushed in. Damianos wasn’t completely inconsiderate; he started slow and let Laurent adjust, and tried to give him pleasure as well. Laurent fought it, tuned out everything except the slick sounds coming from behind him, and hoped it would be over soon. It wasn’t too painful, considering that he expected this and had prepared himself beforehand. After Damianos finished, and Laurent got up to leave, the prince looked at his body from where he reclined on the bed, noticing his lack of arousal.

“You didn’t-” Damianos started.

“It’s fine. Leave me alone.” Laurent shuffled the chiton over his body and walked out of the room, not bothering to grab his shoes.

The sensations of skin touching skin brought back too many memories for Laurent, ones he thought had disappeared long ago, but it seemed that the touch of another awoke them. His mind and body both refused to react to the prince’s actions as any normal boy of his age would. It was better that way, if he found no pleasure in it.

Laurent sits at his desk, thinking of what he’s found so far of the customs in Ios. Damianos is close to many of his servants, such as Mitros, and seems to be a genial personality to most of his court. Tension brews between him and Kastor, but Laurent has no way to use this to his advantage yet. If he can work his way into Damianos’ affections by being a compliant slave, perhaps he may be able to earn enough trust to escape. He doubts that it will be any time soon, though, considering Damianos only uses him for sex and not to confide in. And if he is to escape after his twenty-first birthday, he will be accepted as the King of Vere, but his uncle will surely find a way to kill him. The only solution he sees is to kill his uncle, then ascend the throne.

He startles out of his thoughts when a knock comes at the door.

There is no need for him to allow the visitor in, because Damianos already stands in the doorway by the time he turns around. It’s just another small reminder that he has no power here, no real say in even someone entering his room.

He hopes the prince is not here for the same reasons he’s called for him in the past week.

Damianos crosses the open space and looks at Laurent with those warm eyes.

“Alcides, you have done well for me. I would like to reward you. Is there anything you wish for?”

Of course, there is no way Damianos would know that Laurent is a _prince_ and has had access to anything he wants since he was a child, anything except peace in the absence of his brother. There were no riches in the world that could ever replace what was taken from him. His childhood, one previously unmarred by worries, became a means to an end. If he could make it to adulthood, he could topple the Regent’s power, and assure that he never hurt anyone again. Now, of course, he realizes the folly of this approach, the naivety that the Regent would simply surrender his power willingly.

Laurent bows his head in reverence. “No, my prince.”

And he is unprepared for the gentle impression of the hand on his shoulder, the warm, calloused hand that he longs to lean into just because no one has touched him so gently in so long, but he stills himself, remembering that this is the man he hates, and why does he look so _warm_ now? His eyes are so unlike those of his uncle, so alive and filled with purity that he almost forgets what this man has done to him, the way in which he has violated him. It’s not Damianos’ fault, Laurent thinks, considering he never once hesitated on the occasions he fucked him, but offered himself to the prince freely, even if it was out of coercion.

Damianos kneels to the floor, his head at Laurent’s knees, and Laurent has the sudden thought of grabbing him by his hair, violently. He quiets the traitorous thought; he needs to live beyond today to accomplish his plan. So he allows it, whatever the prince is doing, until he realizes, and his breath stops.

Goosebumps prickle at his thighs as the prince slides his chiton aside; his warm breath ghosting over them makes Laurent want to jump out of the chair. But he stays.

Damianos slips his hand under the fabric and meets Laurent’s eyes for a moment.

“You want for nothing, but I still would like to reward you.”

His hand meets bare flesh and somehow this is so much more intimate than when they Damianos fucked him. Laurent’s breath comes out shaky as the reactions he repressed for years flare up again. He’s getting hard under the prince’s hand, and he wants to pull away, to run and never see him again, but perhaps it says something about him that a small part of him screams to stay right here in this moment and feel everything.

Damianos takes his time, stroking him to full hardness, and Laurent, even in his conflicted state, has to admit how beautiful the prince looks like this. On his knees like a slave, worshiping Laurent’s body. He could drown in the sheer pleasure of this image, and wants to keep it in his memory forever.

It’s when Damianos pulls the rest of the covering away that he reacts. The handsome prince takes in his appearance— the chiton falling off his shoulder, the flushed head of his cock, the graceful curve upward as it strains against his stomach, and without a sound, he lowers his head to take Laurent fully in his mouth.

Laurent has never felt pleasure like this, and his hips buck upward once before he controls himself, but his breathing is heavy, and he cannot help letting out a small sound as Damianos nestles his nose into the soft hair at the base of his cock. The sensation is so warm, so wet, and for all the belief he would never be able to do this with a lover, he is falling apart quickly. He places a hand on the prince’s shoulder, gripping tightly, but there is no recoil from the muscular body in front of him, instead he slides along his length faster, and the release building within breaks free. Laurent tenses for a moment, then cums in his mouth. Damianos pulls off his cock, and swallows. It’s the single most arousing thing Laurent has ever seen, and if he hadn’t just had his first blowjob ever, he’d have already been hard again.

He wants to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Laurent/Alcides is staring to feel things for Damianos (primarily because he’s so starved for love and physical affection after being abused), but is still pretty conflicted because he is just barely okay with this, and certainly wasn’t okay with having sex before. He sees potential, though. He’s starting to learn that Damianos, while a bit clueless, is not an evil man, and won’t intentionally hurt him. I’m definitely not trying to romanticize sexual assault here! Please know that I value consent, and this story is complex. I’m trying to write about someone who is feeling very complicated things toward a prince who literally owns him, and it’s not a healthy relationship at this point. In real life, I would not condone this even if things got better between them— but it’s fiction, so they’re going to work through this and end up together eventually.


End file.
